Before
by 2Lax4U
Summary: I live in a world of monsters, both human and inhuman. My government promotes nothing but war, but the only product is fear. I know not what I see, but am forced to watch the world as I knew it change. Everyday is a step closer to the death that looms over my head. However this isn't the end, it's only the beginning. (A pokemon fanfic.)
1. My World

I was born in what are now the western territories, but do to it becoming a danger zone my family moved towards the east, into a middle territory settlement known as "The Brooke." Growing up was hard, the people of "The Brook" hate outsiders, always will from what I can tell, in there ignorance they denied my father work, my father had to use his life's savings to start up a farm in the small patch of land that we owned, this was the only way to be self-sufficient. My father was unskilled in farming; he had been raised to be a doctor by his father, so in the beginning money was hard to come by, and the only food we had to eat was from the sacks and grain my father had brought with him.

We persevered. At the age of five I started my schoolings, which at first was nothing but basic math and English, which my father had taught me long before, so I excelled. The other children picked on me quite a bit; calling me names like _"Outsider" or "Foreigner"_, to be frank I was surprised they could use such big words. Sometimes they beat me, I told my father and he told me, after properly patching me up, that there wasn't anything he could do, he asked me to bear with the pain. I did.

One day a monster got into town. I just stood there and watched as it bit into a classmate's neck, hard enough to crush it. I remember meeting its eyes, it seemed to know I was afraid, and I seemed to know it was to. The monster was a large feline; most of its fur was a dark purple and dirty tan, caked in blood and mud. I could see the beast's ribs. One moment it was standing up, then another it was lying motionless, its brains scattered across the ground.

I hadn't heard the gun shot, or even register the bullet blowing through the cat's skull. The dead boy and cat lay next to each other, both frigid, both cold, both looking with unseeing eyes.

The adults blamed my father for the boys death, he had brought the monster here, he had killed there beloved Brooke born boy. This "beloved" boy used to kick me in the stomach after school. The monster had done me a favor.

A month later I found another monster near the outskirts of the settlement. It was a bird type, it lay squawking on the ground in pain, flapping one of its wings helplessly. Examining it I notice it had silver and red feathers, small black eyes and a long narrow beak, its left wing was broken. The monster didn't look very dangerous; it was so tiny, small enough to fit on the inside of my coat pocket. Slowly I lifted the bird, then quickly put it into my jacket and hurried home.

My father didn't seem surprised in the slightest to see me bring home a dying monster. It was like he had expected it. The monster was easily patched up and my father seemed relieved to do the medical work again. After a few days of care, of which I attended to the monsters every need, it was healed. My father told me to release it on the outskirts of town, where I had found it. He also advised that I not be seen.

So that night I took the monster to the outskirts of town, where I had found it and let it go. The little bird seemed happy enough to get away, making sure to show off its mended wing as it flew around, until finally it left.

And that was the last time I had seen it.

"My dad and I went into the wilds yesterday to hunt and he taught me how to shoot, I killed this little bird monster. He said it was too small to eat so we left it there." I over heard a boy in my class say.

When I turned 14 my father grew ill, and I had to leave school to take over the small farm that we owned. "It's genetic." He explained. "My grandfather had it, my father had it, I have it, and you have it."

"How do I cure it?" I ask.

"You don't. There is a tumor here." He says pointing towards the back of his head.

"And as the years progress it gets bigger and bigger, until one point it becomes cancerous and begins to eat away at our brain tissue. We die slowly, but surely." He finished voice grim.

"But… There has to be something to prevent it! Anything…"

My father shook his head, "There was a treatment once, back in the days, before all this mess, but now it is non-existent."

"What do I do?" I ask.

"Nothing, modern science will not allow me to live, we just don't have the resources."

I stare at him hard. There was nothing that I could do… Nothing for him, nothing for me.

We would both die, _slowly but surely._

"Go tend to the corn." He ordered; I did as he said.

He died two years later on my sixteenth birthday.

* * *

My thoughts had wondered off, perhaps nerves.

_'Why did I start thinking about dad at a time like this?'_

The waiting room I sat in was a modern one, relatively bland, but still nicer than everything in "The Brooke". The room has pale off-white tiling, the walls are an egg shell white and the inside furniture consisted of a peach sofa and several heavy padded coffee colored chairs. I wasn't alone in the room.

Roughly twenty other young men around my age sat awkwardly trying to occupy themselves in the tense silence. The only noise that was heard in the lobby was the soft tick of a clock.

The secretary, an attractive blonde woman, busied herself at her desk with a modern health magazine, thoroughly ignoring the rest of the room. A couple of the guys in the room would try to steal glances at her, but get caught by someone then look away in shame.

A bleep catches everyone's attention, giving the men viable reason to look at the secretary. She pressed a button, not even looking up from her magazine.

"Please form a single file line and walk slowly into the meeting room, they are ready for you now." The woman said with her high pitched voice.

The youth blobbed into the next room over, ignoring the woman's directions.

The meeting room wasn't anything really special, the walls were bare except for a single clock and the only furniture in the room consisted of thirty or so chairs placed neatly in six even rows, all facing towards a white board. Two men stood in the front of the room, they remained quiet as we shuffled into the room and took our seats.

After securing a seat, I examined both men. The first was a large fat man that seemed to be in his mid-thirties, he wore formal military wear that was tight around his protruding belly. His dark brown hair was greased back, making his stone gray eyes evident, as well as the beads of sweat that shined on his forehead and multiple chins.

The other man looked about eighty, his skin wrinkled, aged, and leathery. It clung loosely to the man, sagging off him in rolls, as if he had lost and enormous amount of weight in a short period of time. His clothes, a white lab coat, a black undershirt, and brown pants, appeared baggy on his frail body. His hair had long ago receded to the side, making the top of his head bald, what remained of his hair shot up wildly from above his ears, as if they had been affected by static. Aside from the man's frail looks and meager composure, his brown chocolate eyes held strength and wisdom.

The fat one spoke first.

"Hello, my name is Cal Ulysses, but you will only refer to me as General Ulysses, Mr. Ulysses, or sir. My compatriots name is Wilhem Stroud, but you will only address him as Dr. Stroud."

Dr. Stroud gave a small wave to the group and a weak smile.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to the meat shall we? Obviously you are all here today for one thing, to be soldiers." He said with a jolly boom, sweat rolls down one of his many chins as he presents a fake smile.

"Each and every one of you has deemed themselves worthy enough to serve the United Territories! Each reason differs from the rest, but do you know exactly how you are serving us?" He asks. The room is silent, no one answers.

The General takes in the silence happily, breathing deeply and placing another smile on his face. He pulls out a fist sized metallic ball, the top of it has a twist cap, he cranks it towards the left, until finally it opens, basking the room in a bright light.

"This is why you are serving us."

A large monster lies dead on the floor. Standing it would probably be around six feet tall and three feet wide, the beast has a thick purple hide that naturally spikes out on its own, seeming deadly to the touch, it is riddled with bullet holes, each opening slightly oozes its thick black blood. The monsters tail is easily the same size as me, and two times as thick, with a pair of steel like mandible at the tip of it, perfect for a quick snip or easy pin.

Nothing really remained of the monsters head, the basic structure of the skull seemed to be intact, but the facial features had been blown off by a shotgun shell, I assume. All that remained was a single mandible barely attached to the extended jaw line, blood had stained it black.

Dr. Stroud stepped forward and began to speak, "This is what you will be protecting the United Territories from. The public call them "monsters", a fitting term, but not quite accurate. You see…"

The General lets out a cough signaling for the doctor to drop what ever he was about to bring up.

"… ah but that is a subject for another time. These "monsters" are unique and differ from one to the other, with hundreds, if not thousands of different species and subspecies. But do to the current situation, intelligence on these "monsters" are limited. For now we have separated these multiple species into six basic categories. Bird type, insect type, aquatic type, mammal type, reptile type, and elemental type.

"Of course monsters on many occasions fall into two categories. The monster before us is an insect type; do not assume that all insect types are like this however. As I have previously stated there are many species of monsters, some may be worse and others may be insignificant. Never underestimate these monsters, for if you do it will _most certainly_ mean death."

The General cut in with a laugh, "That is enough for now doctor, thank you." Dr. Stroud crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a puff of disagreement, like a child would if they didn't get their way.

"You will be protecting our marvelous country from these hideous monsters, be it any way you can, there is more to the military than just the front lines after all!" He said with a laugh, but when no one returned it he continued with his little speech.

"Now, it is time to get down to the why. Our borders are getting attacked by these monsters; we most certainly did not start this war, if you would call it that. That would imply that these feral beasts would be capable of thought, which they certainly are not.

Our borders are large, but the rate of applicants is low. We need fine young men to fight, we need_ you_."

He let that settle among the group.

Dr. Stroud broke the silence, "No matter what job you serve there are a few items that will be used regularly." Stroud pulled a six inch metal cylinder from his pocket, it had a speaker on one end and red button towards the middle, the other item was one similar to the one the General used. A fist sized metal ball with a twist top.

He raised the cylinder over his head.

"This is a Species Analysis Device, or SAD for short. This device is used to determine the typing of all monsters with in a thirty-foot radius and the numbers of such. It is a must have for all military personnel, and must be on at all times, simply press the red button and it will activate. I promise this is an item that will save your life."

He put the SAD back into his coat pocket, then motioned with his free hand towards the metal ball in his hand.

"This is known as the Portable Storage Unit. The PSU is an easy use compact storage device. It can hold multiple items and makes portability easier. The sciences behind such a device is too much for your comprehension, but heed this, living beings are not to be placed in these. If a poor soul is captured their internal organs will turn to mush, they will die." He finished.

The General twisted his PSU as Dr. Stroud returned his to his pocket. In an instant it sucked up the dead monsters body, twisting and contorting light as it was sucked into the vacuum. The ball shut and the general twisted to the right to tighten in up. A puddle of the monsters blood remained where its body had previously lay. It was a thick black, and the pungent odor of it hit my nose, how I hadn't noticed the smell before I don't know.

The General placed another broad fake smile on his face, "Now, it is time to be officially signed up! I hope you are ready yes? It you would separate into two even lines we can begin to fill out your forms and get you enlisted!"

We did as we where told, and I found myself towards the front of the first line. I looked at the others around me, their gazes averted, looking at the ground. It was as if they regretted being here. A couple men left as the lines began to form, but I paid no mind to them. Now I begin to wonder why? Did I miss something during the brief lecture?

I pushed the though out of my mind as I picked up a form and a pen. I started with the easy information, such as my name, gender, age, height, weight, blood type, etc…

The area on family ties made me stall, but I listed that I had no blood relations alive.

I found myself walking over to the General in mild confusion however.

"Excuse me sir?"

The General turn and placed another smile on his chubby face. I noticed a bead of sweat drop from his eyebrow and watched it hit the ground.

"What can I help you with son?" He asked holding out his hand, which I met with a firm shake.

"Err… the draft form only has three positions on it… And they are all for combat." I answer.

"Yes and what seems to be the problem son?" He asked.

"Well, I'm not particularly suited for combat, I have health issues you see…"

"And?" He interrupted.

"I was hoping to get a position more suitable for me; but still important towards the effort." I finished.

"Well you see son, maybe as soon as one clears up, but for the moment we only have those…"

Dr. Stroud cut the general off.

"I am looking for a new lab assistant, perhaps you will be suitable?" He asked.

Ulysses stares daggers at Stroud; which he shook off with a shrug before offering me his hand. I gladly accepted it. The General walks off, being of use elsewhere.

"Dr. Wilhem Stroud, and may I ask for your name?"

"Bartholomew Porter." I introduce myself.

"Any relation to Dr. Max Porter?" My ears perk at the sound of my father's name.

"Yes, he was my father…"

Dr. Stroud caught the past tense and bowed his head in respect.

"I am sorry for your loss."

In attempt to change the subject I asked him about the position.

"Well as you may or may not know, I am currently the leading specialist in the field of monster identification, which essentially pertains to physical attributes, their anatomy, the way they think, and typing. Naming newer species is a plus. I need you to assist me in my studies, age is getting to me and an extra pair of educated eyes always helps." He explained.

I quickly agreed yes, it was perfect, and far away from the action.

I was amazed to find that his lab was not only in town, but in walking distance from where I lived. After a brief chat on which he gave me directions to the lab and informed me to be in on Monday before eight o'clock, I headed home.

* * *

I currently live in the upper west side of the city settlement of Violet. I had sold the small farm my dad and I had owned roughly a year ago, and used the money to travel westward, if only a little. The city is located nearly one hundred miles from the United Territories new border, but is said to be one of the most secure. Though the capital, possibly the safest place on earth is east; or west if you go far enough.

I rent a small studio apartment in one of the nicer neighborhoods. It is complete with a small bathroom and a portable stove and microwave acting as a miniature kitchen. It had very little furnishing, the single room was bare except for a single picture of my father and I when I was younger and a single futon in the corner of the room. I kicked off my shoes and made my way to the bathroom.

I prepared for a shower, peeling of my clothes from the long day I just had, but stalled when I saw myself in the mirror. My hair is cut short, but even then it seems to be a wild mess, lifting in certain areas more than the other, looking as if I had just woke up, I have gloomy brown eyes, with dark bags under them do to a mix of malnutrition and lack of sleep. My skin is sickly white and almost paper thin, soft to the touch and almost paper thin.

My body has little muscle on it, but not much fat either. I suppose I am average in weight, my wide shoulders make me look bigger than I am. I think I have grown, I'm not sure. Last time I checked I was 5'8, but I looked to be 5'10. I wonder when had I grown?

Strange for something like this to slip past me.

I shower, and bask in the glory that is hot water and decent water pressure.

* * *

The lab is probably one of the biggest buildings in town. It is plain from the outside, a made out of concrete and complete with sleek modern windows, the outside walls have a slight gray coloration and are wider than they are tall, and in fact it looked more like a warehouse than a modern age lab.

I walk in and am told by a secretary to go through the door on the left. I find that my idea of the building being a warehouse wasn't actually far off. The wide space was used to hold a plethora of scientists, each with there own cubicle and work table. I assumed that in each cubicle was an office like place. Monsters lay dead and cut up on multiple work tables, each being dissected and tested on. A few break from their work to record data, then quickly continue after.

I walk to the closest one and watch as a man uses his scalpel to open the thorax of a strange bug type monster. It is yellow and black, with what I believed to be remaining wings spouting out of its back. Two long fierce looking needles lay limp; a purple residue coats the tips. A bullet wound could be seen almost immediately, its right eye had been impaled and more than likely killed the monster.

As the man cut it open more and more to inspect the mush that remained of its vital organs, I couldn't help but pity the monster. And I couldn't reason with myself as to why.

Dr. Stroud makes his presence known to me with a stifled cough; I turn and greet the old man. Without a word he motions for me to follow him, this is when I notice that the entire work area is quiet. Strange it had seemed loud before, perhaps I put myself under that notion do to the liveliness of their work.

He ushered me into a private lab, its walls are white as is the floor, a couple cabinets are here and there, with a metal work table in the center of the room. A large strip of glass allows us to look outside of the room and watch the other workers.

Aside from myself and Dr. Stroud there is another person in the room.

"Bartholomew, please meet Mariah Ross." He introduced.

Mariah held out her hand, which I wasn't able to take due to the dumbfounding shock of seeing a woman in a mans position.

She is exotically beautiful, her hair blonde and flows in waves down past her waist, she has intelligent green eyes, piercing me with a definite expectance. Her skin actually has color to it, highlighted by the sun, making it seem to glow. She stands at 5'4, her curves and child baring hips confirmed her woman-ness.

It is strange, women are expected to do womanly jobs in the modern world, such as sell clothes, or style hair, or be secretaries. Sure I had heard rumors that some women have male positions, but coming from a small town like "The Brooke" I had never believed such things. And I hadn't seen one until now since I've moved to the city.

"You're a woman…" I say dumbly as I take her hand.

"And you're a man." She said shaking, giggling slightly.

I turn to Dr. Stroud.

"Uh… how… erm… what is going on?" I ask.

"Mariah is another lab assistant of mine, and is incredibly smart." Dr. Stroud states.

"But she is a woman…" I say, dumbly once again. Mariah raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

"Yes, and she is far more capable than any man, even you." He says, making me realize my ignorance.

"I see…" I turn to Mariah.

"I am sorry, I didn't know such things existed… and so I was shocked. No disrespect intended." I say honestly.

She doesn't say anything, but I can tell she doesn't like me much. Understandable.

* * *

I learn a lot in the first month of being an assistant, cool things like how to administer first aid (Which Stroud insisted that I learn), and how to determine the typing of a monster without using a SAD. I also learned things like don't touch bodily fluids of some monsters, because doing so may result in chemical burns or administration of anti-poison meds.

I learned even more in the second and third months. I learned how the differences between monsters of the same species, and that each breed and each offspring is different from the one before it and will be different to the one after it, I also learned that not all species of monsters procreate, some are asexual and others are sterile and are born from a queen. Species may even breed with another species, if they share certain traits, and form a cross breed.

I can now tell what muscles do what, and how to dissect and collect data on a monster. As well as memorized the names of all the known species of monsters. But with every answer came more questions, I found myself fully submerged in my work at times and constantly obsessing over these beasts.

I wondered what everyone else wondered, where did they come from? How did they reproduce so quickly? How are they able to use supernatural powers? Why do they _exist_?

The work was difficult and made me feel useful.

I slowly cut open the body of a_ Draccus_, a similar body type to the one I was shown by General Ulysses three months ago, except this one was more intact and visibly smaller. A solider had killed it by cutting into its spinal cord, from what I could tell at least. It's facial features are ogre like, it has dark bead like eyes that seem to shrink into its naturally squashed face, rows upon rows of teeth rested in the monsters open mouth, and its extended mandibles added to its fierce look.

I cut into its arm, closer to the shoulder, and then peeled back the thick purple hide that is its skin. Exposing the pink muscle underneath. Under the shoulder and shoulder blade the muscle seemed to coil, meaning the_ Draccus_ was of fine health before its death.

The monster can uncoil its muscle and extend its appendages up to several feet, making it even more deadly, we reason that it adapted to this so that it could grab men from far away, more efficient for a kill I suppose.

I heard the door behind me open and close, I turn to find Dr. Stroud's face to be a sickly pale, and behind him was General Ulysses, smiling his usual fake smile.

I soon realized that Mariah was in the room too, she had been working on a monster of a different species; I hadn't paid much attention to what it was however. Now she watched the situation with mild interest.

The General hardened his fake grin like steel, his eyes laughing in their sockets.

* * *

The chopper's propellers deafened the silence that we all sat in. I rested my head against the back of the seat I was buckled tightly into. I lazily looked at the other men in the chopper. Each and every one of them looked tired and wary, dreading the action that was about to come. I can relate. I was dressed similar to them; I wore long green combat pants, with a thick Kevlar vest covering my chest and a thick green camouflage jacket over that. The only difference is a large red cross taped to my helmet, and the general lack of battle scars.

There is about fourteen of us in all, and it seems that I am the only one without a gun. I wasn't given one, mostly because I wasn't trained to have one. I was being sent into combat with out a reasonable weapon.

The General's words echo in my head. "A temporary medic doesn't need a weapon; you should only focus on saving as many lives as you can, aside from your own."

I curse the fat man under my breath, hating his existence. I'm not supposed to be fighting.

It could be worse; I was able to obtain a combat knife and a hatchet before take off. The chopper is supposed to drop us off on the outskirts of a place known as the Ilex Forrest. Apparently a group of monsters had attacked one of our outposts there, and we needed to go in and clean the mess up.

The pilot informs us that we will reach the drop-off point in thirty minutes. The platoon leader, a man of the name Franklin Perry, began the briefing.

"Our main objective is to drive back enemy monsters as well as annihilate the queen monster, our subjects typing is bug." He began to talk about which way certain men are to go, I'm supposed to follow the main group so this wasn't anything I needed to know.

I soon spaced out, and hoped that I would get out of this _alive_. And I'm not to certain that may be an option.

**AN: Yes I am sure this is a pokemon fanfiction, and I am actually proud of this idea. Before you ask, No I haven't given up on my other fics, I had for a while but decided to keep them going, and I am half way done with each update! Based on the feedback from this story I will decide on if I should focus on it or not. So please review! Despite my other stories, OC's will not be asked for…yet. I hope you like it. **

**Please tell me what you think, was it hard to understand? Did I mess up? Anything you want to change? Review? And if I need to explicitly say which pokemon where mentioned in the chapter, tell me. **

**It is good to be back. **


	2. War

Small bursts of clatter pollutes the air, I recognize the sound as gun shots from a semi-automatic. I hear a scream not to far off, but I can't worry about that now, I need to focus on the task at hand.

I clumsily held my hands above the gap in the man's chest. His thick red blood oozed through the soaked cloth, staining my hands. The man himself was whimpering to himself, tears streaked his cheeks and he seemed ready to burst into sobs. I don't blame him.

Another man crouches besides us watching the surrounding trees with his gun at the ready. I signal for him to come over and silently tell him to hold the cloth and continue to apply pressure. From my bag I take out a needle and some twine, enough to quickly stitch him up, but the blood isn't clotting, and I don't know how to make it do so.

I suppose I need to give this a shot, patch him up enough to move him out.

I push aside the solider, he seems grateful for the reprieve. I attempt to drag the needle through the man's skin, tugging along the twine and sowing the gap in his torso. I notice however this will not work, I can just expect the skin to stretch, and I'd have to close it from his back. To make things worse, his tissue had turned a sickly greenish yellow, as if it had been infected and a rancid smell is produced from the area. He must have been poisoned as well.

He is going to die.

I'm surprised he even survived this long, his spine had been severed, a lung pierced and his entire rib cage is shattered. Not to mention the amount of blood he had already lost and is losing.

"I'm going to die." The man whimpers in certainty. There is nothing I can do. He has no chance at survival.

"No, I won't let you die." I say with hollow fake words as I place the cloth over the gap once again. Mostly to cover it and pretend it didn't exist and that everything would be alright.

It won't.

He begins to cry again.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to die, please! God! I don't want to die! Please!" He pleaded, weakly. He was beginning to fade.

"I'm so sorry." I mutter under my breath.

"God, please no!" He cried.

I shift my eyes away from the man, there is nothing I can do, but I refuse to leave yet. I find the other soldier averting his gaze, fuddling with a PSU strapped to his chest.

"God?" The man asks. The light in his eyes fade and glaze as death overtakes him. Neither of us makes a noise. The soldier walks over and shuts the dead man's eyes with his finger tips. A resting position I suppose. It had been an instant. We were walking, trying are hardest to avoid combat, cowardly but an efficient way to survive. The next thing I know I am looking at a shocked face and a long wicked curved needle stabbed through a man's chest.

The monster had some how snuck up on us. I recognized it almost immediately, for the past month I had seen several, just none of them were alive. The insect, from head to thorax, would be at least two feet long, and its wing span covering roughly six feet. It has a slender upper torso and thin skull, with two beady red compound eyes. Its lower body is thick and fat, holding most of its valuable internal organs, covered by its hard exoskeleton. Two three feet long and one foot wide needles protrude from its limbs, they are bent and curved. From the data I read about them, I learned these needles are organic, more of a marrow, similar to its exoskeleton. It has been theorized that if they break off they would grow back. The bug it's self is a strange sickly yellow color, with greasy black strips running across its lower abdomen.

I think its classification name is Beedran. In almost a second the monsters eyes are shot out by the quick work done by the other man.

"Come on." The soldier says. I nod, wiping the dead man's blood off my hands and onto my jacket. I collect my things and quickly pack up. We leave his body alone, hidden in the bushes.

'How did this happen the SAD should have picked up on its presence, why didn't it?' I thought to myself. I realize quickly what the problem is. I had never turned mine on, and I highly doubted the man in-front of me did either.

"Turn on your SAD." I hiss at him as we slowly crawl away from our previous spot.

Our incompetence last time resulted in a man's death. We stop for a moment, listening to another burst of gun fire. These shots are closer.

He reaches slowly into his bag and pulls out his SAD, pressing the red button as he does so. After a static beep, a cold metallic voice explodes from the speakers.

"DANGER, There is 14 idenitfied monsters in your area. DANGER. 6 Mammal Types and 8 Bug Types. DANGER, DANGER." It rang.

He scrambled to turn off the device before it made anymore noise.

"Shit." He hissed through his teeth, arms tense and gun raised. He scanned the tree tops for any movement. There is nothing, not even the gentle breeze of the wind. For a moment the forest is silent, the constant clatter of gun fire had died down and the horrible shrieks have ceased.

Almost as fast as it came, it ended. The sound of buzzing emanates from the surrounding trees, creeping on us slowly, the sounds of screams and gunfire returns.

A Beedran blurs forward from behind a tree, its twin curved needles aimed outwards. A quick flick and the man next to me fires his weapon.

The gun shot is loud, deafening even. In shock of the sound I barely register the monster falling to the ground dead, or the other buzzing out of the trees in its place.

The next two shots aren't as bad.

"Run." He tells me. Without another command I take of forward, kicking up leaves as I sprint. I don't pay attention to where I am heading, but the ringing in my ears is now replaced with the wind as I whip past.

My lungs beat against my ribs, begging me to stop, but I don't. I press forward. I take hollow, raspy breaths as I continue my dash. It hurts, oh god, it hurts.

I step forward and fall and fall and fall. I smash to a halt as I ram into a tree.

"Fuck." I groan as I twist onto my side, resting my hands on the right side of my rib cage.

I turn slightly to see a steep hill, at the top rests a line of trees and shrubbery, hiding the twenty feet drop. Mother Nature is a clever bitch.

I use the tree I had crashed into for support as I stand. I try to take a step but a red hot sharp pain shoots up my right leg. I test my foot a bit, dabbing it at the ground, a dull burn comes from my ankle.

I must have twisted it. Something squeaks nearby.

I grab the knife out of my bag and hold it out in-front of me for defense. Nothing moves, and the only sound is from the shots of a gun in the background.

"Whew…" I breathe out. I slump my bag onto the ground and pull out my med kit. I grab to sticks of relatively the same size and align my foot, and then set up a makeshift splint with some extra gauze.

I lean harder onto the tree, breathing deep as I do so. Then I hear it again. A squeak. A definite noise. Definitely from a monster, but it isn't threatening. Quite the opposite, it seems pleading, as if it life depended on it, almost infant in nature.

The source of the noise comes from a bundle of bush, not ten feet from where I stand. It could be a trap, the monster acts helpless, drawing in its prey catching it off guard

And then strikes for the kill. Somehow I feel, no, I know this isn't the case. Regardless, I should stay where I stand.

Curiosity bests me, and I feel myself drawn to the cry. Small step after small step, I make my way towards the shrub. Softly I step into it. I don't see the small bundle of brown fluff at first; in fact it blended into the miscellaneous mush on the ground. But after quick inspection, I realized this mush is actually dried blood and bits of poor monsters now a stain on the black mud. I hadn't realized it was alive, four other similar bodies lay around it motionless, similar brown balls of fluff, each roughly the size of my palm.

Only when it squirmed did I see it. The baby monster hadn't had much of a run in it's existence, from the looks of it the beast's mother abandoned ship at the sound of gun shots and a predator must have gotten to it's litter. Not much of a mother, but monsters are mindless and live for nothing but there own survival.

Perhaps the predator also left because of the gun clatter, or maybe it caught wind of me and thought me a threat. If so it isn't much of a predator.

The babe rolls a bit in the mud, staining its new sleek coat of fur in its sibling's blood. A pang of pain throbbed in my stomach. For some strange reason I feel drawn to the creature, as if it was destiny.

Heavy footsteps stumble down the side of the hill behind me and come crashing through the brush. Without a second thought I scoop the babe up and place it on the inside of my coat pocket.

I turn to find the soldier I was previously with. And he is bleeding, a lot.

"Separated… must find… blood… help?" He breathed heavily.

"Lay down!" I command him, he more or less drops. A majority of the blood is pouring out of his forearm, probably do too the large hole. It isn't a clear shot through either, the bones in his arm snapped and burst like shrapnel, digging into the surrounding mussel and causing more internal bleeding.

To make things worse, a strange green puss is bubbling around the edges of the point of entry. Probably poison.

I grab a reasonably thick stick and an emergency flare from my pack.

I give the man the stick.

"Bite down on that as hard as you can, it will help with the pain." I tell him.

"Wait! Wait! What are you going to do?" he whimpers, fully knowing the answer to his question.

I don't answer him as I pull out my knife, flipping it over to the back of the blade. It would act like a perfect saw.

"Just make sure to bite down." I tell him. I steady the knife above where his elbow connects to his upper arm, and then I drag it down through his flesh, tearing the mussel and causing blood to gush. Despite his screams of agony I push on, dragging the blade back and forth, pressing down the blade with all my might and hoping to whatever god that this would end. I fight back my own tears as I hit bone, I can feel the edges bumping on them causing a sound very similar to cutting wood. Only sickening.

I sigh in relief as I pass through the bone and reach more flesh, I push with all my might and separate the forearm and elbow entirely. With a fluid movement I snap off the cap of the flare then jab the bright red flame into his bleeding stub. It does its job and the heat causes the blood to clot.

He is unconscious and pale. The pain and extreme loss of blood caused him to black out, part of me is glad that he is out of pain for the moment, but another part of me knows he is going to die unless he is given blood. It needs to happen, fast. I take the rest of the flares out of my pack and shove them in my pocket. I discard my bag and then sling the man over my shoulders, holding onto his legs and remaining arm.

I look at the dead appendage, lying in the dirt, useless. A part of this man he will never get back, something I took for him. I begin to walk forward and pray. Pray that no monsters attack and pray for a field, or something. I need to light the flares for a chopper to come get us. But it needs to be somewhere they can see us.

I don't know how long it is, but it seems like forever and every step I take he becomes heavier and heavier. He is becoming dead weight, he is dying. I caused it.

"He would have died without you." I tell myself. But I don't really know that for sure. I could have waited. A rash decision.

I don't realize I just stepped into a clearing. When I do I lay the man on the ground and light a flare. Thick red smoke rises into the air. I wait five minutes after it ends to light another. Then after that another.

Then I light my last one. And it dies. Nothing.

I walk over to where the man lies, his breathing has slowed and he has become paler. He is going to die. And it is my fault.

I sit next to him and cry. I hear it. A chopper. It gets louder, and louder, and louder. Then I see it, high at first then low. The sound is deafening but the best thing I heard all day. Everything is a blur. A couple men pick up the man, and work on him.

I take a seat in the helicopter and sigh.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for a crappy ending, Or well I feel it was crappy. Also sorry for the late update, n'stuff. Well Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. If you have questions about what pokemon I included or anything unclear then please just ask. PM me. And Review! Please? If you haven't check out my other stories.**


End file.
